The Saving of Reach
by PurpleGod1994
Summary: All Kirby wanted to do was to go back home after his latest campaign. Too bad the galaxy had different plans for him. Now stranded on a heavily militarized planet, he must find allies in order to even think of making it back. But are the aliens here friendly? Somehow, he doubts it.
1. Where am I?

It had been a long day. Long enough for Kirby to sleep most of the way back on the trip to his newly reconstructed home planet of Popstar. At least, he would have slept had the klaxon alarms not pulled him out of his slumber.

He stirred quickly and hopped out of his sleeping pod, moving his way past washroom and maintenance facility, small feet shuffling along the way.

Reaching the bridge of his craft he sat down in the pilots' chair, yawning as he did so, eyes roaming over the various systems and settings that littered the console in front of him.

'What is going on', he muttered quietly to himself. There was nothing wrong with any of the readings and the alarms were still blaring, irritating him slowly as their sharp tones penetrated his ears.

He looked over the console again and spotted the problem.

'God am I tired', cursing softly and rubbing his eyes as he realized that his ships systems woke him for a common occurrence.

The trip he was taking was a long one. As it was so long, his hyper drive systems couldn't handle a full jump, needing two or more jumps in order to reach his destination. While not common, this slight problem was rectified by simply stopping the ship near a safe place far away from stars and clouds of radiation that would harm it and having it release the built-up heat and used anti-matter that the engines consumed for transport. It was an automatic procedure that took an hour at the most. Afterwards, the ship would simply engage the hyper drive engine again and resume its progress towards the end of its journey.

However, what didn't happen was an annoying alarm waking Kirby and forcing him to check the status of his ship every time it happened.

So… that meant something had either damaged his hyper drive and he needed to repair it. Or an anomaly stopped him from continuing. This was baffling, for the sole reason that hyperspace was a complete and separate entity from normal space and as such there was nothing for him to interfere with. Even a black hole or a neutron star could not interrupt his travel.

'So what happened', he thought, glossing over his readings again and scrolling through every different parameter his ship had to give.

After a few minutes Kirby finally found his answer. Truthfully he was lucky his father had the best pilots and engineers train him in the fine art of flying and maintaining a spacecraft for he was sure not even they would have caught the one line of code that flashed in front of him.

He brought up the screen with the flashing code.

101-457-EC

What!?

That was the code for unknown space anomaly. How and why would his ship stop in the middle of his journey through relatively unknown space for such a thing? This ship had no S.I.* to speak of, so it wasn't something that was simply for satisfying curiosity.

No.

His ship was meant for the pilot and a co-pilot, that was all that had the ability to control anything except for the basic autopilot programming that was commonly used and known to be 100% reliable.

No. This was not good. This meant that either something outside of hyperspace had affected the inside of hyperspace; which was next to impossible, or, his ships hyper drive was affected by this outside anomaly. This was far more likely.

Neither of these prospects were something Kirby wanted to ponder, he just wanted to get it fixed and get the hell home.

Looking around the outside of his ship through the port and starboard cams, he found himself staring at an enormous gas giant and a few moons that circled it.

Tapping a few icons allowed him to scan the system he was in, while he also praised himself for upgrading his scanning equipment before he left home.

Minutes passed, Kirby slouching back in his leather seat while his ship finished learning about the star system he was in.

A soft beep alerted him to the completion and he hurried to read all about his position in the galaxy. Gazing at the screen, he was gifted with the following information.

Unmapped Sector

Unmapped System

12 Planets

1 Terrestrial Planet

4 Rocky Planets

7 Jovian Planets

Unknown

Artificial Construct surrounding terrestrial planet

ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR

Radioactive product detected.

Reboot initiating.

Kirby's eyes widened as he flew through key commands and prompts to stop his ship from shutting down in the middle of unknown space, suffocating him and putting an end to his journey home.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he finished tapping the panels, the reboot process was circumvented. He then let out another sigh, this time of frustration. How was he supposed to get home if he didn't know what was causing his ship to malfunction?

He gathered himself and activated the manual pilot controls.

'Might as well see what is happening beyond this planet', he mused.

He wasn't stupid. He knew that he was more than likely to come into contact with another species. He just hoped whoever built the construct his ship picked up was friendly, although he seriously doubted it. In the hundreds of thousands of years his people- the 'Puffs' as they were referred to by their enemies and 'Kurdish' as his own called themselves- existed they had yet to encounter another race of beings that did not desire either complete subjugation or extermination of his species.

Not dwelling on his peoples unfortunate past dealings, he slowly guided his craft around the giant in front of him and found a bright yellow star staring back at him.

Among its followers were a few of the other gas planets and smaller rocky planets, and in the distance he saw a medium sized planet that looked to be inhabitable to most known species of this galaxy.

He didn't see the construct he was warned about, nor did he see anything that could resemble colonization, but he was far away and his cameras weren't that good.

'Yet', he mumbled, 'First thing I'm doing when I get back is getting these things replaced with deep solar cams'.

Still moving forward, a little less cautious and making better time, Kirby's heart almost stopped when his computers started to buzz with activity, so much so that certain monitors went out completely. Static and then blank, black screens greeting him.

Frantic, he did all in his power to figure out the problem and put a stop to it.

Unfortunately, he could not fix this grievous lack of fortune, and his main monitor started to slowly dim.

Now in complete panic, Kirby did the only thing he could and raced back to his quarters. Slipping on space armor - which had an air source and pressurization system built in - he started to calm down enough to realize that his ship was completely silent. No buzz or draft to signal the engine or air system working. This meant that he was dead in the water so to speak.

Good news however, he was still drifting towards the terrestrial planet at a good pace. Hopefully in a time that wouldn't run out his oxygen supply which would only last for 24 hours in perfect conditions. Conditions that didn't include crash landing and/or suffocating in space. So more like 12 hours.

Angry, Kirby swiped a few pictures and now meaningless objects off of his sleeping pods night stand. Forgetting there was no more gravity, He did not hear the satisfying sound of the items connecting with the floor.

Letting out the longest sigh of his life, he resigned himself to the pace that he set earlier on his ships thrusters, praying to the High God Junith that it would put him in range of the planets gravity well enough to pull him in.

He could survive a crash landing he knew. He was trained again and again how to properly perform one, especially when you had no control of your craft, which often happened nowadays since the newest set of skirmishes with the Klefct started up. No, he wasn't worried about crashing.

He was more worried about after the crash.

Would he be able to fix his ship?

Are there aliens here?

Are they hostile?

God forbid, are they similar to the Narg, the space pirates of the Monti Confederacy?

He hoped not. Torture to the point of insanity and then eternal enslavement was something he wished on no man. He would put a las charge through his brain before he let himself be captured by those bastards.

Images flashed through his mind as he remembered instances of the acts the Narg were capable of. He shuddered and closed his eyes, shaking his head, willing the pictures away.

He had seen far too much in his 1,987 years alive – still young by Kurdish standards- too much in so little time.

His father had always looked at him with sadness when talks of the situation with the various opponents they had to contend with were brought up. He always remembered being told that this was not the life he should have, simply the life he had been given. He took it in stride, realizing that this had been going on far longer than he or his father had been alive. It simply was and no amount of wishing could change it. The only thing that could change it was mountains of dead Kurdish soldiers and hopefully an even taller mountain of enemy corpses.

Done reflecting, Kirby floated his way to the bridge once more to have something to look at while he contemplated his most probable death.

Shock settled through him as he arrived. When his ship died and he rushed to change he had been over 10 AU away from the planet. Now, judging from his view of the now immense and colorful planet in front of him, he was only a few hundred thousand – maybe less- kilometers from the planets biosphere.

'How the hell did I get here so fast', mind racing to come up with an answer. None came. It was simply not possible to have gotten here in the little time he spent in his room. Unless the radiation disturbance accelerated him? But that made no sense at all.

'Well, at least I don't have to worry about suffocating now', he thought grimly.

Looking out at the planet, he still saw no signs of any construct at his position near the planet, though it could have been on the other side. Then again, he couldn't see out the sides of his ship and the only non-electrical viewing panel that he was currently using was small and could only show things directly in front of his ship.

The planet itself was nice, very pleasant to look at. Nothing that could compare to Popstar, but beautiful nonetheless.

It was then, looking at the serene picture in front of him that he felt a very familiar pull. One that could be described as a belt tightening around all parts of your body. It was a feeling he knew very well.

The ship was being pulled into the planet.

Training kicked in and Kirby, calm and controlled, made his way to the safe slot. This was a design choice implemented when the Nargs used planet to sub-orbit batteries to very deadly effect, killing tens of thousands when ships crashed to the surface of whichever hellhole they were to land on.

Reaching the slot and using its manual clips, he harnessed himself inside the secure compartment and punched out the small plate that connected the safe slots emergency shields to the small generator that it was connected to.

He hoped that the radiation hadn't done damage to it. It was protected by the ships shields and its own dampener, so it was a good chance that it was intact. A relatively good chance.

….Right…

Breathing slowly and closing his eyes, Kirby waited for the ship to be completely engulfed in the gravity well of the planet.

He didn't have to wait long as the pull on his body was more intense and he felt his ship shake from the strain of breaching atmosphere without its shielding to compensate for the heat of re-entry.

He didn't know how far the planet's surface was from its biosphere, but looking at it had given him a relative idea and his hand hovered over the shield activation array, waiting for the perfect moment to press it. Too early and it wouldn't last for the impact. Too late and it wouldn't charge before he hit the surface. And if that happened, all that would be left of Kirby Shuringgli, Prince of the United Kurdish Empire, War hero and Sole Survivor of Glamour Star Prime would be a pink puddle.

His eyes still closed, Kirby breathed again, counting seconds and milliseconds in his head.

And then, He pressed the button.


	2. AN

**AN: I am quite literally disregarding almost all kirby lore and canon. Im doing this for even though kirby as he is now is possibly the most powerful nintendo character other than God Hax Link, Him and his people couldnt contend to the might of the halo verse IMO. So, I will be taking liberty with many, many facets of the kirbyverse, including the size and shape of the species that kirby is. Thank you, that is all.**


	3. Situation is Unfortunate

**July 23****rd****, 2552**

**Planet: Reach **

**System: Epsilon Eridani**

**Time: 0800**

Warrant Officer McKinley had a day that started off like any other. He got up, bathed, dressed, and set out for the mess hall hoping to arrive before the line there reached an unacceptable level for him to dine.

After arriving and finishing his meal, he swiftly went to his station. The communications and system array of the planet he was on was constantly monitored. Always was there someone there to oversee any incoming messages or odd disturbances that might occur on the planet, especially since the war with the covenant had taken a turn for the worse.

It had always been his greatest fear in this job, that he might be the one on watch when reports or scans relayed that a covenant fleet had arrived or was incoming. That he would have to be the one to inform his superior that doom was upon them all left a sinking feeling in his stomach and heart.

Luckily for him though, this had yet to happen. And hopefully it would never happen.

'At least until I get transferred off this rock' he thought selfishly.

He went over his last thought and mentally slapped himself. 'No one deserves that, why should I put that on someone else'.

Having come to terms with himself, he sat down in his designated station, setting his coffee next to him for later consumption. Taking off his id card, he swiped the console and logged in; opening the program that let him do his job.

No sooner than he had officially clocked in did a small boxed window appear on his monitor. It was blinking green and filled up only a quarter of his screen.

Frowning, McKinley enlarged it and – wondering what it was - quickly scanned over the notes in the window.

His frown then became accompanied by the widening of his eyes and lifting of his eyebrows. His face became white, a stark contrast to his usual tan complexion.

The report on his screen read as thus:

Unidentified Craft Entry into Atmosphere

No IFF

No Registered Model

No Registered Serial Number

Warning: No reference to any human made ship

Time of entry: 0637

End Report

…

He blinked.

And then immediately shouted for the Lt that was roaming somewhere around the room.

**July 23****rd****, 2552**

**Planet: Reach **

**System: Epsilon Eridani**

**Time: 0640**

He didn't want to know on what or where he had crashed. All he wanted now was a sitrep of his ship and the materials needed to fix it to a degree necessary for space travel.

Climbing out of the safe slot and taking account of his craft, Kirby realized that it was relatively intact. Nothing important had come off in the crash. At least, nothing needed for flight. He did see that the communications equipment and array had been badly damaged. This meant that he couldn't call home for help.

'Great', he raged in his mind. 'What in God's name am I to do now'?

He had hoped that he could simply contact his father or an Inquisitor to send in a stealth team to pick him up. Now though, that hope was dashed. Buried like his kin and turned to ash like so many of his people.

Sighing- something he had been doing much of lately- he made his way to the airlock and subsequently the exit hatch of his ship. After hopping down the two feet to the solid ground beneath he let himself a few moments to look around at the place his ship had violently arrived.

It was grassy, tall weeds and leaves sprouted from the grounds, similar to his planets gardens. The bright green and almost tan features stood out amongst the background of blue, clear sky and fluffy clouds of white. They wisped through the air, uncaring of the troubles surrounding them.

Kirby stopped his staring and glanced back to his ship. He needed certain things if he was to repair it.

Molerium alloy was more than likely the most difficult to acquire. He knew the old smelting methods that did not require fancy factories that were a mainstay in his modern world. A simple wood fire was all he required, and the ground here would provide a decent enough clay to mold his components.

Time though, would be his greatest enemy. For although he did not see the anomaly his computer told him of, he knew there would be people here; and if they were capable of building something outside of their planet, chances were they knew he was here and would shortly be looking for him. Though he did ponder why they would not shoot him down on entry. Perhaps it had something to do with how he traveled to the planet so fast?

He then paced. Softly and silently back and forth across the area in front of his damaged ship. Thinking hard on his options and pondering the predicament of his current situation. He knew he needed material. He knew he needed time. And finally, he knew he needed peace for the time being, lest he die before completion and never make it home.

Then he realized how utterly screwed he was if he thought he would get any of those things.

However; Kirby was not a coward and nor did he simply give up in light of a difficult task. No matter the outcome he would press on to get as much done as he could before things went sour or took a turn for the worse. He did not survive the genocide on Glamour Star Prime only for his life to be snuffed from existence on some ill blighted rock in the middle of nowhere.

What he needed now was an immense amount of luck. Some of it he could acquire simply with his own skill in survival and evasion tactics. He once evaded a Klepct hunting party for over two months while he scrounged enough explosives from various abandoned bunkers to blow the damned command center of those bastards sky high. If he could do that, then whatever species occupied this backwater planet shouldn't be that much trouble. Although, he didn't really figure that the species here would be any more advanced than the enemies he was used to. If it was a different species. For all he knew it could be occupied by the Klepct, the Eriandar, or any number of xenos that paraded across this galaxy.

Except the Narg. He knew that nothing so pretty and calm could ever belong to them. All evidence of planet wide occupation by the Narg was brought along with choking smog and twisted black features littering the grounds and skies. At least he could be sure of that.

Kirby then stopped in his tracks. Mind set upon his mission and determination schooled on his face. He then entered his ship, through the airlock and then back into his quarters where his equipment was kept.

He already had his armor, but in a land that he automatically deemed hostile, simple armor- no matter how powerful- would not be enough. He needed his weapons.

And so, enter into the tools of his and all other of his fellow warriors trade.

He slowly unlatched his trunk, which was thrown around in the crash but still intact and closed when he found it. Inside was a sight that put a slight smile on his otherwise grim and agitated face.

He took out his sword first. An ancient thing, yet still capable of cleaving through even the toughest of substances. Its nickname was brought upon by the day it was forged some said. The day that a multitude of rainbows shown across the sky when it came from the fires of creation. Kirby wished he had been there for that day. He wanted to see the look on Dark Matters face when his ancestor struck him down with the fabled blade.

It had been passed down from generation to generation until one day his father gifted it to him. The day he graduated from the Academy. It was one of his most cherished memories. On that day there was no war, no death, and no anger from his people. Just him and his father laughing about the little things. Such small things that made not a difference in the grand scheme of life.

His reminiscing was soon dissipated by the automatic motions that attached the sword to his side. After the last clip was in he focused on the second weapon on display in his trunk.

Some of his fellow warriors and technicians argued over the choice between laser and ion weaponry. Kirby though, he preferred quality over quantity.

The Mark XXV Ion Punch Pistol was a breed of handheld death that few things could match. Its rifle equivalent was exceptional, but Kirby needed space for other things so the smaller and more compact pistol was his choice.

Its blocky appearance gave it a look that seemed unsuitable for such a devastating device. Kirby thought that was best. If the enemy thought it looked useless, then surprise was yours.

Without going into very complex math and details only the privileged makers and marketers were aware of, whenever Kirby depressed the trigger on this bad boy, everything within a 50 meter line and 1 meter diameter cone would quite simply….disappear. It would vanish, as if nothing there had ever existed. Armor, earth, walls and barricades would cease to exist. It made this weapon one of the most devastating in the Kurdish military and was attributed to over 64% of all military victories that were ground based.

The only problem though was the limited amount of shots.

It could fire ten shots as opposed to the rifles 30 shots. But after those ten shots it needed time to recharge in order to bring more devastation and ruin to the enemy. And the recharge time was a problem. It took exactly 107 seconds to recharge. A problem when the enemy was not likely to wait for your equipment to ready itself. This was the reason many Kurdish units brought Laser Rifles along as well. With the almost unlimited ammo and no recharge needed between shots, it was standard issue.

Kirby however was and always had been melee oriented. He understood the need for ranged weaponry but his skills in gunplay- while very efficient- were nothing compared to his close quarters combat abilities. This brought him to his last weapon and his most prized treasure.

The Hammer of The Dreadmouth.

It was the most incredible instrument of death that Kirby had ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on…and use on unsuspecting xenos, to an almost comical effect. The sight on the face of whichever enemy was unfortunate to be nearby whenever Kirby brought this beast to bear was something to laugh at and cherish at the same time.

No one knows who made it, though the scriptures in the old and very ancient tomb they found it in described its creation as coming from the death of a star.

Kirby in his wisdom decided that was total bullshit and picked up the damn thing as soon as he spotted it in the dark and damp room of the old temple him and a contingent of Kurdish marines were sent to explore.

After using it however and seeing it survive things that would destroy other war mallets ten times over, he began to rethink this.

Still though, it didn't matter who made it, where it came from, or if it had previously been used to slay puppies.

What mattered was what it did.

At first Kirby used it like any brute force master would. He took the big end and applied the proper amount of force. Usually, it would end up on the ground with a great big red or blue stain.

This was before Kirby discovered its hidden abilities.

One day while training with it, he found an oddly shaped symbol among the handle. As it was out of place from the other symbols adorning it, it took his attention. After a bit of fiddling he was surprised when one end of the hammer opened up and a bright white flame erupted from it, tearing it from his hands and flying out of sight. It took almost two weeks for him to find it again, but when he did he vowed to apply this new tactic on the battlefield.

Tests done showed that when tuned to the highest level, the hammer could break speeds of over Mach 2. In other words, it was really damn fast and only Kirby and a few others had the strength to wield it properly. Not that it mattered. Kirby found that no other species besides his could wield it. He remembered with a little shame on his part a day when he dropped it on the battlefield. His then current foes laughter mocking him. And then his screams when he tried to lift the hammer from the ground only to dislocate his shoulder. The mallet stood in place unmoving until Kirby picked it up once more.

All in all, Kirby's assortment of killing machines and bits of metal suited him. And, after placing the last strap on his hammer and tightening it in place he again made his way to the entrance of his ship.

Sighing for what he swore would be the last time today; Kirby -with mental list in hand of the materials he needed and a few odds and ends that bore no real mention on his person- set off across the grassy plain that he viewed earlier.

He hoped beyond measure and prayed to his gods that he would survive this day.


	4. Squagheads and Immigration

** Team Sonic Forever 4910: Yes, but probably not in the way you would think.**

* * *

><p><strong>Planet: Reach<strong>

**System: E.E**

**Time: 0928**

Silence was all that lingered in the briefing room at the moment. The people present were too busy watching the screen in front of them slackjawed. Even the Spartans present-all four of them- were having a hard time coming up with an answer for what they had just seen.

Finally, Catherine Halsey, the unofficial mother of the Spartan II's, narrowed her eyes and then spoke her mind.

" Commander, would you mind replaying the video again please", she curtly asked the highest ranking officer currently in the room. The others who were informed of this had left to further inform the rest of the brass that currently was not present on Reach.

Commander Lawrence was brought out of his stupor by the sound of the doctors sharp voice. He took a look at her and then promptly acquiesced to her demand. He wasn't stupid, he knew for all her politeness that Dr. Halsey could and would get almost whatever she wanted, no matter how many people on this planet or in ONI hated her with a passion. And although he didn't hate her exactly, it left a foul taste in his mouth to know what she did and why she did it; no matter how necessary it may have been at the time.

Therefore the video promptly started over.

At first, the current occupants in the room were sure that they were to witness a Covenant scouting vessel landing on Reach to….well, scout…. They were sure that they were to find an ill omen and have to prepare for total war to protect this planet from falling into the enemies hands. They were sure that they were to be forced into witnessing the deaths of their brothers in arms by the warmachine known as the Covenant.

What they got was a ship smaller than a pelican crash land somewhere near the Highland Mountains in the Viery Territory. And upon exit, they found the crafts owner to be approximately one to one and a half feet tall. It was round and had stumpy arms and legs that were disproportionate to its body and to top it all off, the damn creature was absolutely loaded with some old ass weapons.

"Is that a sword", one of the ODST in the room blurted out, his eyes bulging when it was zoomed in on.

"Dude, the little thing is also carryin a Warhammer", said another. " A fuckin Warhammer".

The Commander rubbed his eyes and let out a soft sigh before turning his attention back to Halsey.

"Now, Dr. Halsey, you are 100% sure that this thing isn't Covenant?", he asked her with his mouth set in a statue like frown.

Halsey was still looking at the screen, eyes still narrowed as she watch the small creature seemingly map out its surroundings before heading off towards the north sector of the territory. After she heard the commander, she blinked away her confusion and answered.

"I don't think anyone could be sure that it is or isn't, as we have never had enough data on them to form multiple plans of defense let alone who they are all composed all we know, they could have thousands of other species in their organization. All we know about are the troops they usually deploy." She got off her chair and moved closer to the screen.

"However", she paused and started to scrutinize the monitor, as if to try and intimidate more information out of it. " There has never been a sighting of a ship with this structure in their ranks, nor have anyone witnessed an alien species that fits this profile." She backed off the screen and turned towards the Commander. "Also considering the fact that this aliens ship crashed and didn't land here should prove that if it was Covenant, they just ruined the surprise". And with that she sat back in her previously occupied chair.

It was at this point another Hell Jumper spoke up.

"Sir, just an obvious question, but, why didn't we just shoot the bastard out of the sky before he landed here"? His question brought nodding heads and confirmations. Even the Spartans in the room thought that any ship landing here without confirmation- even crashing- was odd without any sort of retaliation or rapid response.

The Commander let out a snort and shook his head.

"Because some imbecile left their damn post to use the head and didn't think to check on the monitoring equipment before the shifts changed. The only reason we even know is because the last shift to come on wasn't blind and actually did their job."

The Commander let out a slow breath, he still hadn't reprimanded whoever dropped the ball on this intel. It was a ludacris lack in duty, especially in a time of war. Whoever did would be cleaning everyone's heads for the next year if he had anything to say about it. That is if they weren't all dead because of this colossal fuck up.

He then started to pace back in forth in front of his current position. He knew what protocol was. Send in a team to determine the threat- if there was any- and capture or neutralize the subject. The thing that was bothering him was the fact that he had absolutely zero intel on the being that happened upon this place. Its armor look remarkably like the Mjolnir that his Spartans wore only smaller. Its weapons showed a heavy emphasis on melee and close combat and besides that side arm he didn't know anything else about its combative effectiveness.

He didn't like sending soldiers to certain death, even the supposedly unstoppable Spartans weren't invincible. Add on to the fact that if this thing wasn't covenant and they did kill it, they might piss off another race of galactic space farers. He didn't want to risk an incident. They really didn't need that. And most importantly, if this thing wasn't affiliated with the covenant, then maybe, just maybe a deal could be worked out with this aliens race and theirs. God knows they were losing the war against the covenant, and judging by this aliens small ship and armor he knew that they were more than likely ahead in technological terms than humans were.

He stopped pacing and stared at his soldiers.

"Attention soldiers", his voice resounded around the room.

The effect was instantaneous. Every ODST and Spartan snapped to the position of attention taught in the various Basic Military Training commands across the human controlled galaxy. They didn't move and no sounds were made, all personnel staring straight ahead, proving that while some of them might be a little rough around the edges in terms of personality- excluding the Spartans who were the pinnacle of military bearing, albeit at the cost of humanity- they were all as professional as the next.

The commander looked at each of his weapons, all forty of them. Each was a fine-tuned machine, capable of dealing death to any and all foe. They were the best of the best. A group of technicians, medics, tacticians, and weapons experts that had no equal. Not even the Covenant's ground forces could hope to match the prowess of these men and women.

He just hoped the same could be said of this newcomer.

" Four ten man teams." He explained to the group.

" One Spartan and nine ODST's", his head swiveling back and forth to each of the different units.

"I want this being captured, not killed, unless no other choice is present", he again paced back and forth.

"However, I need one of you to attempt to initiate first contact protocols", he stopped in front of a 2nd lieutenant and inclined his head.

" Lieutenant Morell, you will lead the squad that will do this. You will follow all instructions as designated in UNSC code 4-8. If, and ONLY if proceedings go south do you have permission to have the other units engage. Do you understand?" His face was only a foot away from the Lt.'s and very serious. The Commander did not want this op to go badly and Lt. Morell had a feeling that if it did, he might as well just jump on that strange aliens sword.

Shaken but refusing to show it Lt. Morell saluted and shouted out his reply.

"Aye Aye sir, non-hostile first contact". He dropped his salute and returned to attention.

The commander nodded his head and stepped away.

" Alright now, this is what you are going to do".

**Planet: Reach**

**System: E.E**

**Time: 1021**

**Viery Territory**

He had been walking for close to four hours now. His feet were getting sore and not one single damn rock in this mountain pass had showed signs of the specific ore he needed. His (very advanced) mineral scanner had not beeped one time during his time here. He was beginning to think that there was nothing worth mining on this planet at all, or maybe the natives or colonists took everything already. Of course, that didn't make sense considering he had yet to run into one mining camp or any equipment and never saw any tunnels or used mine shafts. The closest he got to that was a small cave which contained old traces of a campfire.

Kirby stopped along a boulder and kicked his feet at the ground around him, kicking up dust and soil. He was getting very frustrated and it showed in not only his actions but on his face and in his posture. He was tense and coiled. He had been traveling for a while and he had yet to see any of the people who resided here. Hell, besides that ages old campfire in that rinky-dink cave, it was like no one even lived on this damn rock.

Muttering curses under his breath he resigned himself to further travel. As luck would have it he got no more than ten feet when a very hot looking ball of blue energy (plasma?) flew past his head.

Flinching and swearing he dived the ten feet he traveled back to the boulder which was fortunately large enough to cover his entire body. He took his ion pistol off his belt and then switched his visor settings to x-ray mode. His visor had a multitude of different spectrums through which he could see in. It was a very handy tool in warfare, especially when some enemies did not have flesh or were coldblooded.

Gazing through the rock showed him several large bodies, easily six to seven feet tall. Around them were smaller creatures, some even as small as he was.

He heard the impact of what he thought was plasma colliding with rock, slowly melting it away. Still staring; Kirby calculated at least fifty different tactics and battles in his head before he settled on one. Looking down at his pistol and switching the safety latch off, he ducked his head to the right side of the boulder, only to move it back a second later as he dodged a shot fired from these….squag headed beasts.

Squags were odd creatures on planet Popstar that had odd jaw structures which made them seem like carnivores. They weren't. They were odd and ate plants despite the odd biological structure on their odd heads. They were also colloquially named oddbies as a reference to their….oddness.

Kirby didn't care if they looked like a useless animal or not, shots were fired without warning or declaration. This meant they either had a very strong immigration law or they were just murderous assholes. Kirby thought the latter.

He breathed out slowly feeling the heat from the plasma almost finish melting its way through the boulder he hid behind. The bastards were ten meters in front of him and grouped together firing numerous shots at his position.

Perfect.

Stretching to his full height of one and a half feet he dashed sideways and unleashed the fury of his pistol, unleashing all ten shots with rapid succession before drawing his sword with unmatched speed and racing toward the group. Well, the remaining group. Kirby wasn't the best marksman but he was very good and with their being so little a distance between them the ten shots had thrown the group into complete disarray.

The first shot had vaporized the seeming leader of this unit as well as the arm of the two larger aliens next to him. They stood in shock, one looking at his now stump of an arm and the other where their leader used to be. His last sight would be the two feet of his leader before three other blasts sent him to meet with the leader squaghead. The rest of the shots killed the remaining large aliens and two of the smaller ones.

It was at this time that the xenos that reminded Kirby of a bastardized version of his own people completely broke rank and started to run around wildly. With no time to comment on this obvious lack professionalism, Kirby had dispatched another two xenos with swift slashes before moving onto the last of these small creatures.

All in all, the battle was over in less than fifteen seconds. Between the initial salvo of rounds and the drawing of his sword Kirby had, by all accounts, showed his enemies a complete lack of mercy.

Kirby's heart was slowing from the rate it reached as a result from this tiny skirmish. He looked at the aliens that were mostly intact, of which there were few. Blue and purple blood littered the ground and his eyes roamed over the different aliens that made up this group.

He closed his eyes and fell to a seated position. He breathed in and out a few times and let his mind wander and feeling the adrenaline leave his system.

Which proved to be a mistake when he heard what was the pullback of a rifle right behind him.


	5. I Love the MollyWamp

Breathing.

He was breathing.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Kirby had his back turned to the enemy. His very life potentially on the line.

He had heard the sound behind him and bunched up in shock. He knew he shouldn't have rested, knew he should have scouted the rest of the area he battled in. A fine time to take a moments rest is what it wasn't.

So much for all his training.

He couldn't make out the noise well. It had sounded like a bolt being set into place or an armors clasps fitting into their proper mold. He hoped it was the latter. It wouldn't do for his head- relatively speaking for Kurdish didn't really have heads- to be blown from his body.

He then turned. Not too quickly and in a very methodical function. One foot in front of the other foot until his body had made its one hundred and eighty degree motion.

What greeted him was not anything like the squag looking beasts that he had just so recently slain. It was tall, very tall at what he assumed was about seven to seven and a half feet. It had armor of green and very flat surfaces yet rounded edges. Black material looked to be connecting this new creatures armor at the joints and the metal that shone looked to be very hard to get through.

The figure carried what looked to be a rifle, though Kirby saw ejection ports reminiscent of a time when his own people used weapons with a chemical propellant. His people had stopped using them when directed energy weapons such as the plasma rifle and laser rifle and their subsequent models became cheap and efficient. This meant that the xenos had equipment which were primitive compared to his own, and even to the other group of now dead aliens he had killed earlier. That was interesting, why would allies have different equipment and munitions? Maybe it was a tradition.

Kirby stood stock still as he flashed through different visions with his visor. This person had a heart and lungs and organs that befit his stature. He saw though the cybernetics and bone grafts that suggested heavy augmentation. Kirby wondered if all of this xenos people had this done, and if so why not just genetically encode it into themselves from birth. Then again, taking account of their weapons and now their armor -as he had scanned the material and found it lacking in quality and durability -this might have been an experiment gone right and not a way of life.

His thoughts were proved right as other, smaller versions of the armored giant appeared before him, coming out from behind the various boulders and tall grasses that surrounded this mountain valley.

These xenos were much shorter, topping out at six and a half feet compared to the giant in front of him, whose rifle was now pointed at his face. There were nine of them all together, with the one in front giving out hand signals and quietly calling to those nearest him. Their armor was nothing like the giants. They didn't have the full coverage like that warrior did. They had front covers and plates along the legs and arms, but except for the abdomen, the back was sorely lacking in proper protection. This was just another sign of how devastatingly far behind these people were when it came to space exploration.

Didn't these people know of the horrors that awaited them? Did they not plan for a future where their very existence as a species might be on the line? Were they _that_ naïve?

He now laughed at his earlier thought of being killed by these primitives.

It was clear that they knew of at least the species that lay in pieces on the ground, for if they were allies then would they not be trying to take his life as well?

Unless they meant to capture him for information.

Which was laughable. Even now Kirby had seven different scenarios with at least a ninety-six percent chance of success, and twelve more with greater than eighty. It would be different if this were a Klepct party or a Narg band, but it wasn't, and so Kirby felt no fear in his current situation. If he must, he would cut down these plebian space farers with the same grace and efficiency he had used to dispatch the last group on this damnable rock of a planet.

Though, he was getting tired of this gun in his eyes. He wished for nothing more than to take his hammer and knock this giant to any of the various revolving satellites in this solar system. But that would be foolish, and it also happened to not be included in any of the nineteen plans he had for an escape should things go awry.

Finally, after what seemed an age to Kirby, the 'leader' he supposed had made his way to where Kirby was being held up by the giant. He gave a few sharp yet quiet words and the giant lowered his weapon and stepped back, although Kirby noticed his hands and more importantly his fingers did not stray from the trigger on his rifle.

'Smart', Kirby thought. At least they had the knowledge to understand he was a threat. Though it wouldn't have mattered even if his gun was still pointed at him. Kirby would have felled him before the trigger was pulled.

Kirby waited then for the leader of this band to speak. He hoped it would be soon for he really didn't have all day. No matter the previous engagements, he still needed to fix his ship and he still needed to get home.

The 'leader' stood in front of him, right where the giant stood before. His facial features were odd to Kirby. He had never seen creature with bags that hung from the mouth or such straight teeth inside it. Other than that though, he supposed the rest was relatively normal for a xenos. They had a nose and eyes on their heads and ears at the sides. Not the strangest thing Kirby had ever seen.

Kirby watched as the man- it had to be an man for he could see the small whiskers on his otherwise clean face dot his chin- looked at him as if appraising his being. Kirby stood still doing the same to this taller, lankier creature. For a time neither said a word, simply staring and staying in place as if time had stopped.

Finally the man slowly moved his hands upwards, putting both right out in front of him his elbows bent. He started speaking a rough, coarse language that made Kirby want to smack his mouth.

'This has got to stop or I will go crazy' he thought inwardly before holding up his hand rather quickly. This got the man's attention as he stopped talking and stiffened. Kirby also noticed the giant slightly raise his rifle and tighten his grip on the weapon.

Kirby almost rolled his eyes. Instead he lowered his right hand- a bit slower- to the pouch at his side. He unclipped it and brought it to his front before using his other hand to open the small bag.

Kirby was glad that he had brought this along. Although he rather would have left it at his ship, he knew that it might come in handy on an unknown planet with an unknown species. For inside of this bag was a creature known as a Mollywamp. It was a round dark grey insect that feasted off of tiny particles in the air. Its entire shell was covered in a very rare moss that only grew on the backs of Mollywamps.

No one knew the reason for this, but they definitely loved the benefits of this moss. While strange and unexplainable- even though it had existed for over 10,000 years- this moss gave people the ability to learn any language almost instantly. From his species many different dialects to alien species that required four tongues to properly speak, this moss would imbue the eater with almost accent free speech of the next language that they happen to hear.

It was a most useful tool.

As he finished his action, the 'leader' cocked his head toward his side, maybe in a confused gesture? Kirby saw him look back at his squad when a few of them had started to snort. It had stopped as quickly as it started.

Now, Kirby was just waiting for the creature to speak again and activate the abilities of the the MollyMoss he had just eaten. He didn't really know how to initiate conversation as any sudden movements might be deemed hostile and Kirby had no wish to exterminate the species that had shown no signs of….dickery.

After a few more seconds, Kirby had gotten his wish as the 'leader' of these beings finally opened his mouth.

"Gidhol, mi mame si Luieteanat Morrel os she UNSC", Kirby heard as his MollyMoss was kicking in. Only a few more words and full translation would occur.

" I have been axsked to contact you and escort you back to a suitable outpost to begin conversation, as we have proper ways to translate language there. For now I shall begin to use hands signs to relay my request".

The Lt. had then started to move his hands in a way that in most cultures would designate a peaceful yet demanding tone.

Kirby, having had enough of this charade made his newfound language work for him.

Raising his hand in a quick manner managed to silence the Lt. and also served to tighten his body a smidge. Kirby smirked thinking how easy it would be to simply blast this primitive xenos into nothing. His thoughts however turned sour as he reminded himself of his situation.

Xenophobic he might be, primitive these apes might seem, he still needed there help, as disgusting as it was. So, with a sigh, he began to ease the tension with words. Sort of.

"Lieutenant, there will be no need for hand signs here", he started. The response was amusing as confusion roamed the Lt.'s face and shock on the soldiers behind him.

"How di"- he started but Kirby quickly explained.

"The creature that I just pulled from my pouch contains a special moss which has special enzymes that target the learning portion of the brain. It enhances this area by a factor of over one thousand percent allowing the recipient to learn at a pace that is almost incomprehensible." Kirby was lying through his teeth, he had no idea how it worked but this apes seemed in awe at the explanation so he decided they had not the intelligence to understand anything more basic than grunting and shooting. He then continued.

"So, after I had eaten it, which I see had an amusing effect on your…."Kirby looked past him and towards his squad, " subordinates, after the few words you spoke I had successfully assimilated your language". He stopped and waited for the response. When none came he took another turn at talking.

"As to your request, I shall endeavor to comply. However, if your giant does not remove his finger from the trigger of that….you call that a rifle"? Kirby took stock of the weapon again and realized that his earlier assessment was off a tad. These things _were_ ancient versions of his people's weapons, except these apes STILL used magazines in their armaments. Even the Kurdish had ammo materialization programs installed on their chemical propelled weapon systems.

Kirby shook his head and, disregarding the offended look on the Lieutenants face continued with his threat.

"No matter, if his hostile stance continues I shall be forced to consider him an enemy and possibly cut him in half or vaporize him," Kirby finished his statement.

As thought, it had an immediate consequence.

Kirby wanted to know if these barbarians were as staunch and loyal as even a tenth of his own people. If they were then they might have made an interesting protectorate, as not one species he had encountered ever gave him the benefit of the doubt and talked instead of shot. His plan was made on the fly in the past minute or two, even as his own mind raged against it. The logical side however stated that in time, if these people could be inducted into the Kurdish empire, they could be used as a suitable shield to the various enemies that roamed the galaxy seeking their utter destruction or eternal servitude.

Kirby was not disappointed.

There were shouts and swears by the unprofessional future blood smears behind the Lt. but Kirby's real objective didn't move a muscle. No twitch, no change in stance, not one hint of disregarding his situation or disobeying his superiors previous orders.

This made Kirby smile.

'Maybe I can salvage something from this pit stop instead of lost time.' Kirby thought.

The Lt. shouted down his men and silence resumed. He looked towards his giant and nodded. The giant then relaxed his stance to one of a continued guard, but not of an immediate response.

Kirby nodded towards the Lt. and then glanced back towards to the remains of the rather messy pile that littered the ground behind him. He thus offered an apology to the Lt. even though he felt no sympathy or guilt at his actions.

"I apologize for the deaths of your comrades, they made no effort to communicate and attacked without warning. I gave them no quarter." He finished his sentence and was interested in the grimace that now had set in place on the face of the Lt. He didn't have long before an explanation came forth.

" They are not our comrades", he said sternly and with conviction. This made Kirby's non-existent eyebrow raise. If they weren't allies, what were they doing planetside? Though, that did explain why none of them seemed to disturbed by the sight. In fact, Kirby realized that he should came to that conclusion earlier. He was getting lazy in his relative thought process.

After a moment of silence Kirby listened as the Lt. shouted out commands to his team. He turned back to Kirby and swept his arm in an outward direction motioning him to follow.

And follow Kirby did.


End file.
